You Control The Outposts Of My Mind Poem by Mark Heathcote

You Control The Outposts Of My Mind



You control the outposts of my mind
I want to parlay with you in the backroom
On a soft sofa, I'll lie on my back
Honey makes some pony saddle room
I want to gaze at those two lunar moons.
Oh, Honey, you control the seasons
You control the star's excretions
The heaving breaths under my folding ribs,
The danger thrusts zeniths
The raw flesh kisses under your fingertips.
You control the outposts of my mind
The avalanche snows waiting always inclined
Honey, you lead the wilder beast down home
Through the mountain, pass… alone.
Honey, I want to parlay myself consigned.
Oh, Honey, you control the ways I think
You might think I'm dirt; but Honey, there's
There's 24ct gold in this unspoiled ground
If you'll be my jewel, I'll act less like a fool
And take you to my after school.
And teach you 1 add 1 make = 2
And eternally love you.

Monday, May 9, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success